How the fuck had it happened, they had used every protection spell she knew
and most of the muggle methods. But both the test and the spell had proved
them to be chequred. Well, he could fuck off and leave her....so really she
was alone.
She pulled her hair into a severe bun at the back of her hair and licked at her eyelashes with the mascara brush. She wasn't liberal with the foundation today, it was the same tone of her skin, and seemed to make all her frekals look almost artistic. She looped a long green ribbon around the scrunchie at the back of her head, tied it with a large bow, and looked at herself in the mirror.
"I don't look pregnant." She murmered softly to herself, and arched one eyebrow cheekily at her reflection.
She was only 16, a baby would fuck up her life more than anything else she could think of. Not only would she not be able to face her friends and classmates, but her mother would go beserk, and her brothers would all probably slam her face into a wall.
"Fucking hell, why me?"
She knew she was being an idiot, she had always been a flirt with the guys, most lads would fall over themselves to squeese a kiss or a date out of her. However, she had always only had eyes for one guy, the hero with the flyaway black hair, neatly rounded glasses and vivid red scar on his forehead. Ginny had studied that face so many times when the stunning emerald eyes were averted to know every flaw, freckle and stain on his features. She could desipher instantly what mood he was in by merly glancing at him, no matter how hard he attempted to conceal it. At first she had been unable to even look at him without finding her cheeks burning and her tounge severed from her brain. In her second year, however, she had found that he was only human, not some super natural force sent by god to destroy evil. From then on she had tried to get over her obsession with him, burned every photo she owned of him, left him alone for a whole year, unless it was to say a few empty sentences. It was no use, though, she was head over heels for him. She dated other guys, slept with several of them. A lot of the boys she went out with came very close to being serious, but He would always turn up, his face practically shining with virtue, and she crashed and burned.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She had been working alone in the common room one night, it must have been about three in the morning, but she had a murderous potions assignment and her mind was flitting whimsically away from Dragon's Blood and Newt's Eyes, resting on the subject she had been attempting to quell for years now. The portrait opened and closed quietly, she looked up, wondering who could be coming in this late. But no one showed, and she wondered what the Fat Lady had been drinking..or smoking. Then she head a muffled curse, and a soft thud as a heavy book landed on the floor, seeming having dropped out of no where.
"Who's there?" She asked quietly, goosflesh breaking out over her arms, causing the hairs to stand up invoulentarily.
"Shit" she heard, in a vocie she knew better than her own mother's.
"Harry?" She asked, casting her eyes around the room, searching out the dark haired seventh year.
"Oh well," she heard, and gasped, almost falling out of her chair as Harry materialised, as though he had just stepped through some curtains from another world.
He looked as stunning as ever, although the dark rings under his eyes and the tired twist to his lip suggested that he didn't feel particularly stunning. Ginny noticed a red mark on his forehead, half covered by ruffled hair. It was darkening as the bruise began to set.
"What the fuck, Harry?" she snapped, rising from her seat and feeling her cheeks flush slightly under her make-up.
"Its kind of a long story......." And he told her then, firstly about his invisability cloak, and then why he had been out so late. It seemed that he had been training with Snape in Occlumency and Legilimency since his fifth year, and lately the sessions had become longer and longer, until he was lucky to get four hours of sleep per night. Ginny was shocked, she knew that Voldermort had been gaining power of the world lately, it was all over the press, but she had forgotten Harry's enevitable part to play in this war. She felt an overwhealming sence of regret and pity for the young man who stood before her. He was not yet twenty, but already put under the stress she was sure not even Dumbledore had been submitted to.
"Harry..I-" she began, but he cut her short.
"No, Ginny. Its what I ne....what I want." He paused, sighed deeply and sat on the table next to her, their faces close enough so that she could feel his breath, sweet against her cheeks. "I'm just tired, and tense."
She wasn't sure what overtook her at that moment, maybe it was the fact that their bodies were so close, that she could smell the magic on him, warm and dimmed with exhaustion. Or purhaps the fact that she was just drunk with love. She leaned forward right then, and kissed him with more passion and absolute love than she knew she had. It seemed that the world seemed to stand still for the second and a half that he merely sat there, apparently stunned, before his lips parted, and his tounge darted in to take part in a duel of desire. Ginny suddenly felt as though a gentle breeze was flowing through her mind, and stiffened for a moment, before she realised that Harry was probing her thoughts, delicately and incessently. Her feeble protests were deflected as he grabbed at a thought drifting on the surface of her mind, and read it in silent shock. Ginny barely realised thay were no longer kissing, her heart seemed to be in overdrive, either the exhileration was too much, or she was having her first heart attack.
"I didn't know...I'm so sorry..." she heard him say, but she felt tears burn her cheeks, scar her face by eating away at her foundation. Her shoulders shook with sobs, and she looked away, unable to stand the gaze from those tortured, devistating emerald eyes.
She had little recolection of that night, but the mottled love bite on her collar and the scratches from Harry's nails on her shoulder blades told her more than what she had any wish to know. It was almost as though her brain could not process anything so perfect, so wonderful. As though it had just shut down.
Harry had a smile for her after that, and more than once a kiss was offered, recived and drawn out into passionate make-out sessions. They never made love again, Ginny refused, she didn't want to spoil that feeling of unity in their first night.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Leaving the bathroom, she passed a few first years who, next to Ginny who was pushing 5'9, were shrimps. They glanced up at her with awe, and she gave them a small smile. Well, let them think she was some perfect sixthyear, until the whole school descovered she was a whore. She was not in her robes, because it was Saturday, like most of the other girls her age, she was wearing a knee length, flowing skirt, the kind that was 'in' this summer. It was a pale pastel blue, blending neatly with her faded sky- blue tank top. It was custom these days for most of the school (barr Slytherin's....obviously) to wear muggle clothes, it was as close as they could get to thumbing their nose at Voldermort and his anti-muggle campaign. Seamus Finnagan gave her a hungry look as she passed, and she sighed. She had finished with him over the Christmas Break, but he was still love struck.
She spotted Harry with her brother and Hermione after a moments search through the crowded commonroom. Striding towards the small group, she tapped the object of her affections on one shoulder, and asked politely if he would come and speak with her for a moment.
.
.
"You're WHAT?" he shouted, once Ginny had managed to find a quiet section of the library to speak to him.
"Shh....and yes....its true" She said dejectedly, not meeting his eyes.
"Fuck..is it mine? No, don't answer that, of course it is...I'm the only guy unluky enough for this to happen to." He was blazing with anger, she noticed his hand was his the pocked of his jeans, probably gripping his wand.
"Harry.....you don't have to...." She was about to explain that he shoudn't blame himself...
"Shut up Ginny, don't make excuses for me. Its my own bloody fault." He cut her off, and gripped her shoulders with his hands, forcing her to look at him. "I love you Ginny, you are ony of the bravest, purest people I know..." He seemed to faulter..and glanced over her shoulder to the rest of the library.
"I'm going to Marry you." He said, finnaly, pulling her forward into a kiss.
Ginny struggled and pushed him back, reluctantly. "You can't....we're both still in school"
"I won't let you go through this alone, god knows Ron would kill me...not to mention your other brothers....." He lost himself again, and was holding her tightly against his chest, as though afraid she might be lost to his aid.
It was then that Ginny realised how unimagenably wonderful Harry Potter was. There was no thought to his own health, pride nor freindships. He did not even think about denying the child was his. He was only thinking about her, about what would be best fo Ginny Weasly. Her eyes closed and she kissed him again, this time properly, their toungs stroking each other fondly. She realized that if she was ever going to settle down with anyone, there would be no one better to do it with than Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.
She pulled her hair into a severe bun at the back of her hair and licked at her eyelashes with the mascara brush. She wasn't liberal with the foundation today, it was the same tone of her skin, and seemed to make all her frekals look almost artistic. She looped a long green ribbon around the scrunchie at the back of her head, tied it with a large bow, and looked at herself in the mirror.
"I don't look pregnant." She murmered softly to herself, and arched one eyebrow cheekily at her reflection.
She was only 16, a baby would fuck up her life more than anything else she could think of. Not only would she not be able to face her friends and classmates, but her mother would go beserk, and her brothers would all probably slam her face into a wall.
"Fucking hell, why me?"
She knew she was being an idiot, she had always been a flirt with the guys, most lads would fall over themselves to squeese a kiss or a date out of her. However, she had always only had eyes for one guy, the hero with the flyaway black hair, neatly rounded glasses and vivid red scar on his forehead. Ginny had studied that face so many times when the stunning emerald eyes were averted to know every flaw, freckle and stain on his features. She could desipher instantly what mood he was in by merly glancing at him, no matter how hard he attempted to conceal it. At first she had been unable to even look at him without finding her cheeks burning and her tounge severed from her brain. In her second year, however, she had found that he was only human, not some super natural force sent by god to destroy evil. From then on she had tried to get over her obsession with him, burned every photo she owned of him, left him alone for a whole year, unless it was to say a few empty sentences. It was no use, though, she was head over heels for him. She dated other guys, slept with several of them. A lot of the boys she went out with came very close to being serious, but He would always turn up, his face practically shining with virtue, and she crashed and burned.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She had been working alone in the common room one night, it must have been about three in the morning, but she had a murderous potions assignment and her mind was flitting whimsically away from Dragon's Blood and Newt's Eyes, resting on the subject she had been attempting to quell for years now. The portrait opened and closed quietly, she looked up, wondering who could be coming in this late. But no one showed, and she wondered what the Fat Lady had been drinking..or smoking. Then she head a muffled curse, and a soft thud as a heavy book landed on the floor, seeming having dropped out of no where.
"Who's there?" She asked quietly, goosflesh breaking out over her arms, causing the hairs to stand up invoulentarily.
"Shit" she heard, in a vocie she knew better than her own mother's.
"Harry?" She asked, casting her eyes around the room, searching out the dark haired seventh year.
"Oh well," she heard, and gasped, almost falling out of her chair as Harry materialised, as though he had just stepped through some curtains from another world.
He looked as stunning as ever, although the dark rings under his eyes and the tired twist to his lip suggested that he didn't feel particularly stunning. Ginny noticed a red mark on his forehead, half covered by ruffled hair. It was darkening as the bruise began to set.
"What the fuck, Harry?" she snapped, rising from her seat and feeling her cheeks flush slightly under her make-up.
"Its kind of a long story......." And he told her then, firstly about his invisability cloak, and then why he had been out so late. It seemed that he had been training with Snape in Occlumency and Legilimency since his fifth year, and lately the sessions had become longer and longer, until he was lucky to get four hours of sleep per night. Ginny was shocked, she knew that Voldermort had been gaining power of the world lately, it was all over the press, but she had forgotten Harry's enevitable part to play in this war. She felt an overwhealming sence of regret and pity for the young man who stood before her. He was not yet twenty, but already put under the stress she was sure not even Dumbledore had been submitted to.
"Harry..I-" she began, but he cut her short.
"No, Ginny. Its what I ne....what I want." He paused, sighed deeply and sat on the table next to her, their faces close enough so that she could feel his breath, sweet against her cheeks. "I'm just tired, and tense."
She wasn't sure what overtook her at that moment, maybe it was the fact that their bodies were so close, that she could smell the magic on him, warm and dimmed with exhaustion. Or purhaps the fact that she was just drunk with love. She leaned forward right then, and kissed him with more passion and absolute love than she knew she had. It seemed that the world seemed to stand still for the second and a half that he merely sat there, apparently stunned, before his lips parted, and his tounge darted in to take part in a duel of desire. Ginny suddenly felt as though a gentle breeze was flowing through her mind, and stiffened for a moment, before she realised that Harry was probing her thoughts, delicately and incessently. Her feeble protests were deflected as he grabbed at a thought drifting on the surface of her mind, and read it in silent shock. Ginny barely realised thay were no longer kissing, her heart seemed to be in overdrive, either the exhileration was too much, or she was having her first heart attack.
"I didn't know...I'm so sorry..." she heard him say, but she felt tears burn her cheeks, scar her face by eating away at her foundation. Her shoulders shook with sobs, and she looked away, unable to stand the gaze from those tortured, devistating emerald eyes.
She had little recolection of that night, but the mottled love bite on her collar and the scratches from Harry's nails on her shoulder blades told her more than what she had any wish to know. It was almost as though her brain could not process anything so perfect, so wonderful. As though it had just shut down.
Harry had a smile for her after that, and more than once a kiss was offered, recived and drawn out into passionate make-out sessions. They never made love again, Ginny refused, she didn't want to spoil that feeling of unity in their first night.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Leaving the bathroom, she passed a few first years who, next to Ginny who was pushing 5'9, were shrimps. They glanced up at her with awe, and she gave them a small smile. Well, let them think she was some perfect sixthyear, until the whole school descovered she was a whore. She was not in her robes, because it was Saturday, like most of the other girls her age, she was wearing a knee length, flowing skirt, the kind that was 'in' this summer. It was a pale pastel blue, blending neatly with her faded sky- blue tank top. It was custom these days for most of the school (barr Slytherin's....obviously) to wear muggle clothes, it was as close as they could get to thumbing their nose at Voldermort and his anti-muggle campaign. Seamus Finnagan gave her a hungry look as she passed, and she sighed. She had finished with him over the Christmas Break, but he was still love struck.
She spotted Harry with her brother and Hermione after a moments search through the crowded commonroom. Striding towards the small group, she tapped the object of her affections on one shoulder, and asked politely if he would come and speak with her for a moment.
.
.
"You're WHAT?" he shouted, once Ginny had managed to find a quiet section of the library to speak to him.
"Shh....and yes....its true" She said dejectedly, not meeting his eyes.
"Fuck..is it mine? No, don't answer that, of course it is...I'm the only guy unluky enough for this to happen to." He was blazing with anger, she noticed his hand was his the pocked of his jeans, probably gripping his wand.
"Harry.....you don't have to...." She was about to explain that he shoudn't blame himself...
"Shut up Ginny, don't make excuses for me. Its my own bloody fault." He cut her off, and gripped her shoulders with his hands, forcing her to look at him. "I love you Ginny, you are ony of the bravest, purest people I know..." He seemed to faulter..and glanced over her shoulder to the rest of the library.
"I'm going to Marry you." He said, finnaly, pulling her forward into a kiss.
Ginny struggled and pushed him back, reluctantly. "You can't....we're both still in school"
"I won't let you go through this alone, god knows Ron would kill me...not to mention your other brothers....." He lost himself again, and was holding her tightly against his chest, as though afraid she might be lost to his aid.
It was then that Ginny realised how unimagenably wonderful Harry Potter was. There was no thought to his own health, pride nor freindships. He did not even think about denying the child was his. He was only thinking about her, about what would be best fo Ginny Weasly. Her eyes closed and she kissed him again, this time properly, their toungs stroking each other fondly. She realized that if she was ever going to settle down with anyone, there would be no one better to do it with than Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.